Page 75 of Anatomy of a Player

“That’s the thing. I’m…”Come on, Whitney, force it out.“I’m not sure I want to go public anymore. I don’t want part of the student body to hate the other half. Wasn’t this supposed to get better after high school?”

“That’s the problem. It’ssupposedto be better, but it’s the same shit, different school. That’s why we need to point it out as many times as it takes for people to listen and finally turn things around.” I could practically see the frustration wafting off her. “Come on, you were just as mad about the unfairness of it all when you started digging into this story. What happened between then and now?”

The better question waswhohappened. The answer was just over six feet tall, had deep brown eyes, held me tight when I spilled secrets, and told me I was perfect when I needed to hear it most.

I ran a hand through my hair, and, after so long without being able to, I welcomed the familiarity of it. The soothing sensation didn’t last for long, because Lindsay was staring at me, so intently that I became self-conscious of every twitching muscle and breath I took. “I’m not even sure if I have enough information to prove our theory. I’ve seen both sides, and it’s not as black and white as you want me to make it.”

Lindsay grabbed my elbow and marched me to a secluded corner of the room, right next to the neglected fake tree that was so dusty it looked more brown than green. If she planned on dragging me out of sight to murder me, this just got more like a firing squad than I’d originally imagined.

“Tell me which one of those smug bastards got to you,” Lindsay said.

“This has nothing to do with the hockey players—”

“Ah-ha! I didn’t evensayhockey players.” She leaned closer, her narrowed eyes information-seeking missiles.

I kept my face as neutral as I could, my invaded personal space making it more difficult. “You didn’t have to. Clearly I’ve been spending a lot of time with them. It’s hard to report on hockey without being around the players.”

She tightened her grip on my arm and jostled it. “You told me you weren’t one of those dumb blondes who’d fall for a hockey player and give up everything she believed in.”

“I’m not doing that.”

Lindsay’s sharp gaze bored into me—if the editor gig didn’t work out, she should go into interrogative police work. I wanted to confess everything, even as I clamped my lips to hold it in. “You give this up for a guy, and you prove Professor Jessup was right,” she said. “You prove that athletes get special treatment, not only from the faculty, but from students, too.”

“Why are you so passionate about this? What happened to you that makes this so important?”

She glanced away instead of insisting she didn’t have a personal stake in the matter, which surprised me. I thought she’d give me a speech on journalist integrity, or how people deserve truth and justice. Then she slowly looked back at me—I couldn’t pinpoint exactly what was changed about her, only that everything had.

“I don’t like admitting this… I thought I was above it.” She finally let go of me and instead of being grateful for the returning blood flow, my arm sent stabbing pain through it with each fresh pump. “Do you know why I picked you for this story?”

“Because I knew about hockey?”

She laughed full-out, enough that Will craned his neck. I could only imagine how we looked, two girls crammed in a tiny corner with a sneeze-inducing fake tree. He seemed to realize there was more crazy going on than he wanted to deal with, and returned his attention to his computer.

“You remember that first article you pitched me?” she asked. “The one about college guys?”

“Yeeaah. Do you want me to write that instead?” I could do that easily enough. It would include some of my thoughts from “Anatomy of a Player”—of course, that one also involved Hudson. But he’d understand that far more than an article slamming athletes, especially with so much focus on the hockey team in particular. He’d probably even find it funny, and the fact that we were now together would show that I didn’t think that way anymore. You simply had to find the right college guy, the one who saw the real you and fit like your favorite pair of jeans, like he was made just for you.

Lindsay’s features softened, revealing a side of her I’d never seen. “The truth is, I’d love to put out an article like that, because I’ve felt that frustration. I could see how much you believed in it, and that you’d been hurt before by guys who’d lied to you and fooled you into thinking they cared about you.

“I saw that passion, and I thought, she’ll fight for the cause of the people. She’s given up on guys and relationships like I have, so she won’t fall for some jock’s lies and abandon the story. She won’t be like the last guy who started the job but clearly had a case of hero worship within a week.”

I’d always wanted to fight for those causes I believed in. I wanted to expose wrongdoing and to make people think. But the angry comments and protesting made me think all I’d accomplished was making people fight when there’d been peace. Lindsay seemed set on punishment, and while there’d been brief mentions of the football and basketball teams, clearly her main target was the hockey team.

“You’ve got a grudge against the hockey team,” I said. “Why?”

Lindsay sucked in a deep breath and slowly let it out. “Last year, I was the girl in the stands cheering for them. I showed up at all the parties, and I flirted with the guy I’d been crushing on for weeks. He told me that he couldn’t get serious because hockey came first.”

Suddenly I couldn’t swallow.

“I was stupid enough to sleep with him anyway. I thought I could change his mind once he got to know me. He said all the right things. He called me beautiful, told me I was different from the other girls…”

My neck prickled in recognition. But it was just because I’d been played before by guys like the one she was describing. Every player on the team put hockey first. I was sure they’d all charmed their fair share of girls. In some aspects, yes, it was similar to my experience with Hudson, but it was different, because now we had a committed relationship—he’d said so, no making me guess.

“I thought I was better than those puck bunnies—I was there because he wanted me there, not to just score with whichever hockey player would take me.” Lindsay’s voice went completely flat, in that forced way that said otherwise too much emotion would spill out with the words. “But then one night I surprised him at his place, and he had another girl there. He acted so confused that I’d be mad. After all, he’d told me he didn’t date. But it was painfully clear I’d been played.”

Her emotionless facade broke and pain flickered through her features. “Clear he’d never cared about me. I was so stupid to think I’d be different.”

I patted her shoulder, because I didn’t think we were quite at the hugging level of friendship. Before now, I would’ve guessed she was too tough to be hurt by anyone, much less a guy. “I’ve been there. We’ve all fallen for the charming guy, only to find he was a total asshole. I was there not two months ago.”

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